I pull into the driveway still on the phone with my mom, truck ticking as it cools like it’s complaining about the day same as me. Salt’s sits in the air—Helton never really lets you forget where you are—and there’s sawdust stuck to my tattooed forearm visible in the light as I turned the wheel into my driveway.
“How’s my girl?” Mom asks.
“Yeah,” I say, phone wedged between shoulder and ear while I grab my lunch bag off the passenger seat. “Braelie’s good. Tired, but good. The kids are fine too—loud as hell so the usual sign of success.”
My mom hums like she’s filing that away. She always asks about her girl first. Not me, which I’m cool with, I’ve accepted my place in the hierarchy.
“You tell her I miss her,” she says. “And be on time on Sunday. Your father’s already threatening to eat without you.”
“I was ten minutes late,” I argue, locking the truck. “And that was traffic.”
“That was you stopping for donuts.”
“For the kids.”
“Mhm.”
I grin because she knows me too well and because I’m about to walk into my house, which is my favourite part of the day.
“I’ll have them there on time,” I promise. “All of them. Even Hudson.”
She snorts. “Good luck prying him away from his grading. Might have to physically drag him.”
“I’ll bring rope.”
I am Sick and fucking tired of explaining to Jack why Hudson and I aren’t Siamese twins so I can't explain why he’s not here and I am.
She laughs before saying, “You kids crack me up.” She sighs. "I love you and we’re proud of you. All of you.”
My dad’s apparently out fishing, which tracks. The man communicates exclusively through weather and silence. But Mom says it for both of them.
“Love you too,” I say, and hang up before she can get sentimental enough to make me uncomfortable.
I step inside and the lethargy that kissed my muscles floats away in a warm breeze. There’s a towel abandoned on the white banister, dripping onto the stairs. Through the archway on my left I clock Talyn, with wet hair, sticking to his head, and sitting on the floor with Averie’s head on his lap—both watching animated thing is yelling about friendship. Graham’s in the armchair and laptop balanced on his knees with his headphones on. He looks up when I pass and waves at me, I smile at the him.
Not stopping, I head straight for the kitchen, dropping my lunch bag on the island, then detour to the bathroom to wash my hands because if I don’t, my wife will give me the look.
When I come back, Averie’s padding in with quick, heavy steps and wet hair dripping onto the wooden floors.
“Daddy!” she shrieks, launching herself at me.
She was clean five minutes ago but it doesn’t matter and Averie doesn’t care so I scoop her up anyway, dust and all.
“Hey, bug,” I say, kissing her cheek. She plants a wet one back right on my jaw.
“Missed you,” she announces, like it’s a fact and not an emotion.
“I missed you too, dream bug.”
“Long time.”
“I know but dad’s got to work if he wants to buy his princess a castle.” she giggles.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask, shifting her to my hip.
She opens her mouth to answer—and then I see Braelie.
My wife comes in from the hallway with a laundry basket on her hip and her hair still wet from her shower. Braelie freezes when she sees me, and the look on her face does that thing it always does—like the day just got easier.
There she is.
“Hey,” she says, smiling effortlessly, like she didn’t just wrangle three kids and a house all day.
“There’s my pretty woman,” I grin.
I stick my free arm out and she doesn’t hesitate. Drops the basket on the breakfast nook bench and walks straight into me. Averie squeals between us, delighted to be squished. My wife presses her face into my chest and I feel her breath out, long and slow, like she’s been holding it since morning.
I kiss the top of her head. “Hi,” Braelie says, muffled by my chest.
“Hey.”
Averie pats her mom’s hair like she’s blessing her. “Daddy’s dirty.” She states.
“I can see that,” she says, laughing. She looks up at me. “Long day?”
“When is it not, baby.” I smile, tiredly at her when she pulls away enough to look.